


boys, boys

by choir



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-02 04:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5234918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choir/pseuds/choir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto reads in a magazine that the average seventeen-year-old has already kissed someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by alcieart@tumblr's bokuaka comics ... I'm in hell.

Bokuto reads in a magazine that the average seventeen-year-old has already kissed someone. It shouldn’t unsettle him, but it does, because his younger sister swears by this magazine – “it’s only thing I subscribe to that I _swear_ by,” she insists – so of course, it has to be true.

He thinks about it enough that he finds himself wondering if his teammates had already kissed people. It wasn’t like he was thinking about Akaashi, specifically, but he wondered. Surely, if any of them, Akaashi in particular, had had a partner, they would have told him, because he’s the captain. And he needs to know stuff like this. It would affect practice, and possibly his pride as a senpai.

So, of course, he decides to take action.

 ****  
  
  
  
  


“Akaashi,” Bokuto says as seriously as he can, as if he wasn’t pacing back and forth across the locker room, “you’re knowledgeable. Teach me how to kiss.”

“Excuse me?” Akaashi replies with a surprisingly level voice. Bokuto is worried for about five seconds when he sees Akaashi’s quiet stare, but he bounces back quickly.

“You have to help me, you know, learn,” he insists, pulling the magazine out of his bag. “My younger sister has this magazine and apparently I should have kissed someone already! But I thought about it, I mean, why I haven’t, and it’s because I spend all my time here, with you, and”– he coughs awkwardly –“the team.”

“Those magazines are always an exaggeration,” Akaashi mutters, turning back to his locker, where he rummages out another shirt. “Don’t take it so seriously, Bokuto-san.”

Letting out an exasperated groan, Bokuto closes the distance between them, grabbing Akaashi’s shoulders and shaking them slightly. “I don’t have anyone else to ask! You gotta help me!”

Before he can be distracted by Akaashi’s confused stare and the way he bites his lip, he’s being shoved away with a sigh. “You won’t let up on this, will you?”

“No.” Bokuto says, trying to keep from pouting.

“Why do you think I’m an expert on this?”

“You’re an expert at everything!”

“I’m not,” Akaashi says defensively, pulling off his jersey quicker than usual, and Bokuto notices that his hands are shaking.

“You’re the only one I can ask,” Bokuto says slowly, waiting for Akaashi to finally look at him.

He never looks, but _does_ let out a quiet exhale, running a hand through his hair, and Bokuto knows he’s won.

 ****  
  
  
  
  


An hour later, they’re sitting at the foot of Akaashi’s bed, staring awkwardly at the carpet. Bokuto has no idea how this is supposed to go, if Akaashi knows any more about this than he does, and why he’s felt so flustered for the past hour. Maybe he regrets it, or maybe –

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, quietly, “I don’t know how to kiss any more than you do.”

Bokuto jumps, shaking his hands quickly, “no, I ... I mean, I don’t either! So it’s not like I expect you to ...” he trails off when Akaashi scoots slightly closer, bumping their knees together, and a lump forms in his throat.

God, this was going so much farther than what he originally had intended.

“Um,” he tries again, laughing sheepishly, “you know, you don’t really have to, uh, kiss me, I was just concerned because, what if you were ahead of me, and ...”

Bokuto turns his head to look at Akaashi, _finally_ , and before he can be surprised by the close proximity of their faces to each other, Akaashi _laughs_ , pulling back and covering his mouth with his hand, shoulders shaking.

“Why are you laughing?” Bokuto whines, pushing himself closer to Akaashi, who is still fighting to keep a straight face.

“Because you’re ridiculous.” Akaashi shakes his head incredulously. “Is that what this was about? Being behind?”

“Well ...” Bokuto rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I suppose.”

“So, there was no need to do this, was there?” Akaashi stands up, and before Bokuto realizes it, he’s grabbed his hand, tugging him back towards the bed.

“Bokuto-san?”

“Oh, uh ...” Bokuto can’t believe the words that are about to come out of his mouth, “well, since I’m here, maybe we should ...”

“Kiss?” Akaashi says, perhaps a bit more breathlessly than he meant to, because it makes Bokuto shiver, eyes widening. He nods once, and Akaashi sits back down.

“Well, I –” Bokuto stutters to a silence when Akaashi leans closer, lips parted and cheeks flushed slightly red. He wants to move, he really does, but Akaashi’s face is only centimeters from his and oh, God, he can’t breathe.

“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi murmurs, eyes darting between Bokuto’s mouth and his eyes, as if he can’t choose which to focus on.

Bokuto shudders, heart pounding in his throat, and brings a hand up to press against Akaashi’s back, pushing him forward, hesitantly closing his eyes. He feels Akaashi’s lips lightly brush against his, and he experimentally leans into it, relishing in the way Akaashi sighs and relaxes, tension leaving his body, twining his fingers into Bokuto’s hair.

For a few moments, Bokuto isn’t sure what to do, fidgeting awkwardly, but then Akaashi _moves_ – he opens his mouth slightly, presses harder against Bokuto, and coaxes him into a gentle movement. It’s slow and rough, Bokuto’s teeth clinking against Akaashi’s when they get out of sync, but it’s warm. It isn’t what he expected; there’s no fireworks, no explosions, only a slow hum under his skin, a warm feeling in the tips of his fingers, and a tinge of want settling in the pit of his stomach.

Akaashi controls the pace for what feels like forever, alternating between bruising strength and soft caresses, occasionally pulling back to breathe heavily, pupils blown wide and lips shining. His hands, pressed against Bokuto’s back, trail down his spine, resting on his hips, making him shiver and gasp slightly. Faintly, he wonders why Akaashi is panting so hard, why he feels so warm. Tearing his eyes from such a distracting mouth, Bokuto finally notices the deep set desire in Akaashi’s eyes, and he _whines_ , because it makes him want Akaashi to press against him and tilt his head back and take, take, take –

His thoughts are interrupted when Akaashi licks a line over Bokuto’s lips, a clear question, before his tongue slips inside, pressing against the roof of his mouth, sliding against his tongue, too slick and warm. They both groan at the unfamiliar sensations, unsure of what they are doing beyond what seems natural, and Bokuto takes back what he said about a slow fire – he feels as though he’s burning.

Pulling back, Akaashi whispers Bokuto’s name, _Koutarou_ , and suddenly he can’t move, frozen in place. He feels Akaashi grip his arms roughly, digging his nails into the skin, and before he can protest he’s pushed back onto the bed, Akaashi quick to follow, straddling his hips and pinning him down. He can barely let out a small squeak before he’s kissed again.

Their kissing is quick, this time, and there’s too much tongue and teeth. Bokuto he feels as though he’s drowning under Akaashi, whimpering every time he’s pressed a bit further down, almost writhing now. Akaashi drags his teeth down Bokuto’s throat, and he jolts quickly, because where did he learn how to _do_ this, and he briefly considers telling Akaashi not to leave marks before he bites down and a loud cry rips through Bokuto’s throat.

Akaashi laves a line down Bokuto’s jugular, where he’s sure it’s beating a mile a minute, down to his collarbone, kissing and sucking. Bokuto desperately tries not to moan, but he lets out a few whimpers, which spurs on Akaashi more. It feels weird, the sucking feeling at his throat, unnatural and strange. But his chest is heaving up and down and he can’t stop squirming, because _Akaashi’s_ lips are on his skin, _Akaashi’s_ tongue is sliding over where he bites, and the thought drives him insane.

His attention is drawn away from how desperate Akaashi’s mouth is when he feels a weird electricity slide through his hips. Through the thick haze in his mind, he realizes Akaashi is now _on his crotch_ , grinding down, and suddenly he’s shooting up and pushing Akaashi away because he finally notices how tight his slacks feel, and all he can feel is embarrassment.

They stay like that a while, breathing hard and staring at each other, confusion coloring over their expressions. Bokuto curls into himself, desperately trying to cover the front of his pants, and tries to ignore the look of hunger that crawls onto Akaashi’s face when he notices what exactly he’s covering.

“Ah –” Bokuto pants, surprised at his reaction and the quick showing of hurt on Akaashi’s face, “I ... you, my hips, and I ...”

“Sorry,” Akaashi mumbles, clearly flustered, “I got a bit carried away.”

“No, no,” Bokuto lets out a short laugh, somewhat breathless, “it was ... nice.”

“Yeah,” Akaashi says, quiet. “It was.”

“So, um ...” Bokuto gnaws on his bottom lip, “what should we do now?”

“Maybe we should stop, you know, since ...” Akaashi’s eyes flicker down to between Bokuto’s legs, where Bokuto is still awkwardly trying to cover himself by stretching out his shirt. It isn’t really working.

“Ah.” Bokuto laughs again, only _slightly_ mortified, “it was because, you know, you were ...”

“On top of you?” Akaashi raises an eyebrow, a bit of a smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. God, Bokuto really won’t be able to look him the same again. “I didn’t realize that was something you liked.”

Bokuto hates blushing, but he’s pretty sure his entire face is bright red by this point. He’s silent for a minute before he chokes out, “and, well, what about ... after this.”

“Well,” Akaashi starts, his face going back its irritatingly composed state, “what do you want?”

“More,” Bokuto blurts out before he has a time to consider a better answer, and a hand flies to his mouth before he can say anything else. “Not ... now, maybe, but, if you want ...”

“More.” Akaashi hums, turning over the word in his head. He crawls closer to Bokuto, who lets out a squeak of surprise. “Bokuto-san,” he continues, and Bokuto gulps, “do you understand what you’re saying?”

“That we’d kiss more?” Bokuto asks, head starting to spin. “Yeah, yeah, I ... get it.”

Akaashi nods, seemingly satisfied with his answer. “Have you calmed down?”

“Huh?”

“You know.”

“Oh.” Bokuto nods, uncrossing his legs. “So, um ... how did you know how to do those things?”

“What?”

“You know, the ... grinding, and the ...” Bokuto coughs, “the ... neck kissing.”

“I’ve kissed before, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, holding up a hand when Bokuto instinctively opens his mouth to ask _what_ , “but, not like that.”

“Oh,” Bokuto repeats, trying to ignore the weird tug at his heart. “Was I better than them?”

Akaashi just smiles at him.

"Much better."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is becoming my fluffy porn fic, oh man ... there will probably be another chapter (lol) if I ever want to stay up late (4:30AM) writing porn again. This chapter also made a rating change necessary.

On a Saturday in summer, some few months after they enter a the grey area of a not-relationship, Bokuto wraps his arms around Akaashi, the futon set up for him discarded on the floor, untouched. Akaashi hears Bokuto hum softly into his hair, pulling him closer, even though they’re curled under at least fifty blankets and pillows. Sweat begins to pool at the back of his knees, and he would protest, or move, but exhaustion is settled deep into his limbs from the heat and Bokuto’s heartbeat against his back, erratic yet firm. It’s weird to think about— Akaashi doesn’t remember when the sound became as comforting as it is.

He listens to Bokuto’s breathing slow, and wonders faintly if he’s fallen asleep; Bokuto always sleeps first, unable to stay up despite repeated protests that _he can, really!_ It’s more endearing than he cares to admit, because most of the time it leads to Bokuto passing out in the most inconvenient places possible.

Akaashi speaks too soon, though — he feels Bokuto shift, leaning closer to Akaashi’s ear before murmuring, “Akaashi, can I touch you?”

Akaashi lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots down his spine. He’s lost count of the amount of times they’ve kissed, but they’ve both been relatively careful — or hesitant, he isn’t sure — to go any further than that. The thought of Bokuto’s hands on him makes his stomach squirm, because he’s felt them against his cheeks, warm and rough and big —

“Bokuto-san,” he warns, turning over to look Bokuto in the eye. His inhale catches in his throat momentarily when he meets Bokuto’s gaze, heavy and intense. It's almost too bright to say no to. He disguises his surprise by huffing, which he hopes sounds haughty, not breathless.

Steeling his resolve, Akaashi opens his mouth to speak before he jolts, feeling Bokuto rub circles into his hips. “Why,” Akaashi finally says, trying to ignore how Bokuto’s fingers twitch, sliding his shirt up slightly.

“I don’t know,” Bokuto replies, looking somewhat bashful but nonetheless determined. “I just want to.”

“And what will you do, exactly?” Akaashi fights to keep his voice level, even as Bokuto’s hands slip lower and lower below the waistband of his briefs.

“Get you off with my hand?” Bokuto helpfully supplies, offering Akaashi a wide grin. “Or suck you off—”

“Do you even know how to?” Akaashi insists, squirming when he feels Bokuto brush the front of his crotch. Oh, God, he’s losing control fast. “You’ve never done this before.”

“Well,” Bokuto says, leaning close enough that his breath ghosts over Akaashi’s lips, and continues talking in the most earnest voice Akaashi has ever heard leave his mouth, “you can tell me what’s good or bad, right? Since I’m learnin’ and all!”

After that, Akaashi realizes it isn’t up for debate, because a choked gasp leaves his mouth when Bokuto presses the palm of his hand along Akaashi’s clothed dick, sliding up and down slowly before he awkwardly pushes the fabric down, blinking down in confusion.

“I don’t think staring will help,” Akaashi says dryly, accepting defeat and pushing his briefs down his thighs.

“You aren’t turned on, are you?” Bokuto frowns, rolling Akaashi onto his back and sitting up to straddle his hips.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I thought you were asleep. Sleeping generally doesn’t immediately equate to sex for me, Bokuto-san.”

“‘s not sex,” Bokuto retorts, clearly flustered. His voice drops, and he suddenly can’t meet Akaashi’s eyes. “But I think I’d be nice to have sex with you someday. I mean, I want it to be special, so I didn’t want to … rush it. ‘Cause I like you. So I wanted to do this, too … but I also don’t want to be with you just to get into your pants!”

Stunned, Akaashi has to resist throwing an arm over his face — he always forgets that Bokuto has the capacity to say cheesy things like they’re inherently normal. Instead, he shoves the impulse into the back of his mind and laughs quietly, lifting his arms up to tangle his fingers in Bokuto’s hair. “I like you too, _Koutarou_ ,” he whispers, and his heart swells when he sees the dark blush at the tip of Bokuto’s ears.

Watching Bokuto tremble, Akaashi leans up and kisses any more words out of Bokuto’s mouth, who sighs and relaxes, pressing Akaashi deeper into the mattress. There’s nothing hesitant in the way Bokuto kisses, now; he easily sucks the air out of Akaashi’s throat, leaving him breathless and dizzy, and it isn’t long until Akaashi finds himself grinding up against Bokuto’s thigh, embarrassed arousal pooling uncomfortably in his stomach.

He’s half hard, or at least he thinks he is, entirely too focused on how Bokuto twines their hands together, pinning them by Akaashi’s head with nearly too much strength. He feels Bokuto kiss down his throat, biting and sucking gently, and Akaashi squirms, letting out a quiet whimper.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto says, breathing out over Akaashi’s collarbone, “will you tell me what feels good?”

Akaashi nods, unable to do anything but bite back a moan when Bokuto’s clumsy fingers finally wrap around his dick, sliding up and down. It’s awkward and too slow, and it makes him groan impatiently, almost writhing when Bokuto experimentally presses down on the head, rubbing in circles.

“B-Bokuto– _ah_ ,” Akaashi chokes out, unable to process that Bokuto is being uncharacteristically quiet, “you can … go faster. And press down harder –”

A whimper breaks past Akaashi’s lips when Bokuto squeezes tighter, twisting his hand down to the base before pumping faster, smearing precum across his fingers and down the sides. Slick sounds start filling the air as Akaashi realizes with mortification how wet he’s become from just Bokuto’s inexperienced hand alone, and his gaze quickly flickers from the ceiling to Bokuto, whose eyes are wide and dilated and concentrated on Akaashi’s face, watching every movement, every reaction.

He opens his mouth to tell Bokuto to stop, it’s too much for him to _watch_ , he can’t do it after all, before Bokuto asks, “Akaashi, what do you want?”

The openness and willingness in Bokuto’s words has Akaashi shuddering, chest lurching up when Bokuto rubs the underside of his cock, pressing almost too roughly.

“W-Wait, I …” Akaashi shudders when Bokuto stops, looking concerned. “I—”

Taking himself in his hand, he rubs in the way he’s used to, shutting his eyes tight, even if it doesn’t get rid of the overwhelming sense of being stared at. The realization that Bokuto can really see everything, the desperate spread of his legs, the sweat pooling off of his brow, the lewd splattering of precum on his stomach, washes over him in dizzying waves.

“I normally rub the top, l-like this,” Akaashi says, hoping his voice sounds at least somewhat level. “And, like this—”

Bokuto’s hand covers his, slotting their fingers together as he lets Akaashi set the pace. It’s strange, almost too much so, to feel someone's hand that isn’t his own forcing him in directions and at a speed he wouldn’t normally take. Bokuto’s fingers are rougher than his, and they catch against the skin differently, radiating little shocks of pleasure into his hips, pulsing out as far out as his toes.

Distantly, he feels his hand leave his cock and Bokuto’s wrapping around it more completely, leaning down and kissing him again, which Akaashi is all too thankful for to cover up any moans that might leave his mouth. Pressure builds rapidly in his abdomen, after that; he begins to buck his hips up into Bokuto’s grip more and more often, desperation surging through his muscles as he grips the back of Bokuto’s shirt so roughly he hears the telltale rip of stitching coming undone.

Akaashi comes suddenly, with a quiet cry, burying his face in Bokuto’s neck, clutching onto him as his entire body tenses and relaxes, aware of cum dripping onto his stomach but not quite in the mindset to care. He exhales, sinking back down into the mattress, eyes fluttering open to see Bokuto’s unguarded, amazed expression. Fondness quickly surges through him at the sight; he realizes that he wouldn't mind if they laid here forever, as long as they were together.

“That was ... ” Bokuto starts, then trails off. He grabs a tissue from a box underneath the bed and wipes at Akaashi’s stomach and his fingers, dazed. “Really nice.”

“You need more practice,” Akaashi says absentmindedly, not fully understanding what he’s saying; he rationalizes it by telling himself he can already feeling his consciousness fading. With one hand, he messily pulls his briefs back up, lying lopsided on his hips.

“Sure!” Bokuto nearly shouts, all too peppy for someone who is talking about learning to get their setter off better, “whenever you want, Akaashi!”

“Bokuto-san.”

“What?” Bokuto asks quizzically, pulling Akaashi back against his chest and covering them with blankets.

“Aren't you hard?”

“Oh.” Bokuto fidgets awkwardly, very obviously not trying to let the front of his hips go anywhere near Akaashi. 

Akaashi turns over again, throwing a leg over Bokuto’s hips and pressing his lips against his throat, hoping Bokuto can feel the smile there. Embarrassment is starting to inch its way back into him, now that his high has faded slightly, and he grips Bokuto tighter in response.

“Bokuto-san,” he says quietly.

“Mm?”

“Let me?”

“Yeah.” He pauses. “Hey hey, Akaashi?”

“Yes?”

“I really like you.”

Akaashi feels himself smile again, grateful Bokuto can’t see him completely. “I do too,” he says, slipping his hand under Bokuto's pants.

Bokuto lets out a shuddery whine, and Akaashi kisses his jaw lightly.

As it turns out, Akaashi doesn't mind this side of relationships, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk to me/send me requests at my writing tumblr ([nishiuras](http://nishiuras.tumblr.com)). Hopefully I can get back to writing more after finals!


End file.
